Indies,
which promised the grandest success.

Even the Doctor had said, "You have reason to be proud of your boy,
Squire. I trust that in time he may join piety to prudence."

"Hope he may, hope he may, Doctor," said the Squire. "Fine stout lad,
isn't he, Doctor?"

Of course Phil had met early with Reuben, and with the fresh spirit of
their old school-days. Phil had very likely been advised of the
experiences which had brought Reuben again to Ashfield, and of the
questionable result,--for even this had become subject of village
gossip; but of such matters there was very coy mention on the part of
young Elderkin. Phil's world-knowledge had given him wise hints on this
score. And as for Reuben, the encounter with such frank, outspoken
heartiness and manliness as belonged to his old school-friend was, after
his weary mental struggle of the last few months, immensely refreshing.

"Phil, my good fellow, your coming is a great godsend to me. I've been
worrying at the theologies here: but it's blind work. I think I shall
get back to business again."

"But you haven't made it blind for Adele, Reuben.--so they tell me."

"And it is true. Faith, Phil, if I could win her beautiful trusts I
would give my right arm,--indeed, I would."

"But she's not blue," said Phil; "she's as cheery and mirthful as I ever
saw her."

"There's the beauty of it," said Reuben. "Many women carry their faith
with a face as long and as dull as a sermon. But, by Jove, her face
bubbles over with laughter as easily as it ever did."

Sister Rose had, of course, met Phil on his return most gushingly. There
is something very beautiful in that warm sisterly affection which at a
certain age can put no bounds to its admiring pride. There is a fading
away of it as the years progress, and as the sisters drop into little
private clamorous circles of their own, and look out upon other people
through the spectacles of their husband's eyes,--as they are pretty apt
to do; but for a long period following upon the school age it is very
tender and beautiful. If Phil had been coarse, or selfish, or awkward,
or ten times the sinner in any way that he was, Rose would most surely
have found some charming little excuse for each and every sin, and
delighted in reflecting upon him the glow of her own purity.

Of course she insists coyly upon his making the village rounds with her.
Those intellectual ladies, the Misses Hapgood, must have an opportunity
of admiring his